


Long Hotel Hallways

by thegirlnamedcove



Series: Long Row To Hoe [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gay Derek Hale, Gay Stiles, Gen, Hotels, Misunderstandings, Pre Sterek, Prostitution, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sex Work, cove being preachy again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 23:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/pseuds/thegirlnamedcove
Summary: Jackson rolled his eyes, “Oh my god you are both such virgins. This is a hotel. You can just call the desk, they usually keep a list.”They followed him out and Scott perched on the end of the bed, face still screwed up in confusion."A list?""Yeah, a list of strippers. So that parties exactly like ours can call and hire them for exactly this reason."“Out of all the skills to have, it makes sense that this is yours,” Boyd said, and Jackson stuck out his tongue.





	Long Hotel Hallways

Scott’s twentieth birthday was coming up and the pack was simmering with excitement. Most couldn’t drink yet, but Kira was 21 and Boyd’s fake ID was amazing. (He claimed to have spent $200 on it, but wouldn’t say who’d made it for him.) Between the two of them they’d bought as many bottles of liquor and mixer as they could and the rest of the pack pooled money together to rent out a hotel suite so they could while the night away telling bad jokes and embarrassing stories and getting hopelessly drunk.

The only real disappointment was that Stiles couldn’t come, at least not until late. Scott had been on him constantly for the past two weeks, but he wasn’t budging.

“Look, I know it’s important to you, okay? I really do, and I’ll be there after eleven. But man, I've got car payments now on top of school and this weird old guy says he’ll give me a couple hundred if I can come fix his computer after he gets off work, I can’t just turn that kind of windfall down.”

He clapped a hand to Scott’s shoulder and shook him a little, just enough to shake loose a smile.

“We’re brothers, you know that, so I’ll be there right afterwards. You can use the time at the beginning to get all the dirty jokes out of your system. Hire a stripper or something, let Erica get some blackmail on you.”

Scott snorted and shoved at Stiles’ shoulder but he knew he’d lost the argument. He couldn’t stand in the way of Stiles relieving some of his money problems, he knew how bad it had gotten in high school, how much that stay in Eichen had cost. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try at least a couple more times before he let it go.

 

***

 

To everyone’s displeasure, Jackson was back in town just in time for the party. Lydia still wasn’t speaking to him, and while she wouldn’t say why they could all guess based on her murmuring about a “slutty british bitch”, so she’d been led away by Kira and Erica down to the wine bar on the first floor as a birthday gift to Scott. No shouting, no arguments, not tonight. At least Jackson was being helpful in between his usual douchey side commentary, stringing up Happy Birthday banners in the room and ferrying ice from the machine to fill up the bathtub. Even if he wasn’t the cuddliest teddy bear out there, Scott at least knew he was fun at a party and after the last few months negotiating with a neighboring pack he needed fun. It took until Boyd arrived with the dufflebag full of booze for Scott to regret that line of thinking.

“So what are we doing for ass at this thing?” Jackson swanned into the small bathroom with his hands in his pockets, clear in his intention to let them do the unloading.

“At...what?” Scott stuttered to a stop, a liter of tequila in midair, “Dude, I have a girlfriend.”

“Well super for you,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “But no one else does and it’s going to be boring as shit to just have four guys getting drunk in a room together.”

“Five, counting Stiles.”

“I never count Stiles,” he snorted.

“I dunno, man, it might be fun,” Boyd said, “You said Stiles even suggested the same thing, and you know it’ll embarrass the shit out of Derek when he gets here.”

The idea of Derek blushing and trying to avoid looking directly at a girl in a low cut shirt was an appealing one, Scott had to admit. The man was surprisingly prudish for someone who dressed like he was posing for GQ every day of his life. Although if they were going to do that they were going to be fair.

“Alright, fine, but we need to get one of each though, a girl and a guy. Stiles is gonna be bored stiff if we only have a woman on offer.”

Jackson rolled his eyes but ducked out of the bathroom towards the desk along the far wall where the phone sat.

“Do you…” Scott poked his head out and narrowed his eyes, “Do you just know the number for some strippers off the top of your head?”

“How often do you order strippers, dude?” Boyd laughed.

“Oh my god you are both such virgins. This is a hotel. You can just call the desk, they usually keep a list.”

They followed him out and Scott perched on the end of the bed, face still screwed up in confusion.

“Why would they have a list ready?”

Jackson gestured broadly to the room around them and the banners on the wall, but was pulled back to the phone before he got a chance to say anything snarky.

“Yes, hi. I’m in room three twenty, I was hoping for some extra pillows…..Certainly…...Oh, no preference. In fact if you could send me one of each kind that would be fantastic…...You too, goodbye.”

He hung up the receiver and grinned.

“They’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

“Out of all the skills to have, it makes sense that this is yours,” Boyd said, and Jackson stuck out his tongue.

Thirty minutes wasn’t a tremendous amount of time to get a buzz going, but they managed, especially once Derek arrived ten minutes in and wrestled the mixers away from Scott. He’d bartended in New York, or so he claimed, and it certainly tasted a lot less sickly sweet when he was in charge of making drinks. They were feeling loose, Jackson texting in the corner, Scott trying to pick some appropriately “sexy” music, and Derek laughing with Boyd on the couch, when the knock came on the door.

“I got it!” Scott yelled, and catapulted himself up off the bed. After some fumbling with the chain lock he threw the door open and a grin spread across his face.

“Stiles! You made it!”

His best friend stood outside the door, eyes wide and dressed to the nines, with a petite blonde beside him.

“Did you bring a date to my birthday? We sent the girls downstairs, but she can stay as long as she’s okay with a stripper coming later. Actually now, they’re supposed to be showing up any minute now.”

“I...they?”

Scott flapped his hand at Stiles, “Yeah, I made sure we got a dude too, I know boobs aren’t going to do anything for you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathed out, and it looked like he might get sick.

“What are you doing out there, Scott?” Jackson’s voice carried from within the room, “Let them in so we can get started.”

“It’s not them,” Scott shouted over his shoulder, “It’s Stiles and…” he turned back and smiled crookedly at the blonde girl, who was locked in what looked like a silent argument with his friend, “Sorry, what’s your name?”

Stiles tried to answer, but she cut him off.

“Chaya. Nice to meet you,” her smile was heated and she raked her eyes down Scott from head to toe.

“We cannot do this!” Stiles whisper-yelled, “I will explain it to you later but you need to leave!”

“This is money-in-hand and I can’t afford to miss out on it, Zeke. I can’t just live with my dad like you,” she whispered back, and Scott’s face slowly fell as he stared at them. Jackson came up behind him and ripped the door from his hand, staring out at the two standing in the hallway.

“Who’s Zeke? Wait, Stiles?”

“Hi, um…I don’t. I just came up, I don’t think I know this woman. Strippers?”

Jackson narrowed his eyes and flitted from Chaya to Stiles and back again. He leaned against the doorjamb and held onto the frame, a calculating look on his face.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you here for?” he addressed Chaya directly, grabbing onto Stiles forearm warningly when he started to protest.

“Well we got an order for extra pillows, big guy, and are here to deliver.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open and Jackson smirked. The silence was palpable, thick enough to make Chaya’s practiced girlish smile start to fade. Inside the room, someone was fumbling and moving around, but before they could reach the door the scene snapped back into place and Scott practically shrieked:

“ _ I’m the old guy?! _ ”

Stiles cringed and shrunk back just as Derek pushed through the crowd that was forming around the door.

“Scott, I--”

“No, Stiles, how could you not tell me about this? Since when are you a stripper? Since when do you skip my birthday party to be a stripper?” he clutched at his hair with both hands, mind whirling but coming up dry for explanations, “What is even your theme? Why aren’t you dressed like a stripper, I think I bought you that jacket!”

“Scott, it’s really okay--” Derek tried, but Chaya cut him off, now fully free of the false geniality she wore on the job.

“We  _ are not _ strippers. I don’t make hotel calls for that kind of money, it’s a waste of my time. I’m full service, and if you aren’t interested in that I need to get back out to Lexington so I can find someone else who is.”

“Full service, huh?” Jackson poured the charm into every word, his mirth barely contained, either unaware of or unmoved by Chaya’s disinterest, “What does that involve, exactly?”

“Uh-uh, we talk in the room, I don’t need staff thinking I scare away their patrons with shoptalk.”

Derek made eye contact with Stiles and jerked his head towards the hallway but Stiles shook his head. The escape would be amazing, short term, but there was no squirming out of the talk Scott was winding up to have and he set his jaw as he followed everyone inside instead.

Boyd sat in the same spot on the couch they’d left him in, the only change a smirk on his face to match Jackson’s.

“So I hear we got our pillows.”

“You bet,” Chaya said, “Now. I don’t know what’s going on with you boys and I don’t care. I offer full service companionship at one hundred dollars an hour, five hundred for the whole night. I see four of you here, not including Zeke, and that will up the price depending who wants to  _ participate _ . I don’t charge for watching, but keep your hands to yourself. Any other details, just ask. Would you like my services, or no?’

“Zeke?” Scott asked, his voice impossibly high.

“Sounds appealing, miss, but I’m good. Derek?” Boyd asked.

“Gay.”

“Well I guess that leaves just me,” Jackson smiled, “If you’re okay waiting twenty minutes for me to book a room away from these idiots, I wouldn’t mind buying a whole night. Plus a few kinks if you’re up for it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but hitched her handbag higher on her shoulder.

“No permanent marks, sweetheart. That’s all I ask.”

Jackson crowded her towards the door, murmuring lowly, but it didn’t take a werewolf to hear him say, “How about marks on me?” before the door swung shut behind him. For a moment the room sat in a thick stunned silence before Scott seemed to get himself together and levelled Stiles with a cruel glare.

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“Um…” Stiles ran a hand along the nape of his neck where his hair was cropped short, “Never? I mean, it’s just a side job, it’s not like you--”

“ _ I would absolutely tell you if I was a prostitute! _ God, Stiles, what is even going on? Why do you do this, why do you feel like you  _ need _ to do this?”

Stiles blew up through his teeth, lifting his bangs for a moment before they fluttered back down to his temples.

“A hundred dollars an hour, Scott--”

“For what?! For letting someone do that to you? You couldn’t get a real job, one where you don’t have to give it up for some stranger?! You know I could have gotten you a job at the bank, I offered one to you last month when my boss was hiring, what is so bad that you need to do this?”

“I don’t...I don’t need to, we’re not destitute Scott, I promise, it’s just...I tried to find something I could do around school and…”

“And what? You know you can do better than this, you _ are _ better than this.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything is wrong with it!”

When Derek spoke it was firm and clear, the same voice he’d used when he was an alpha, although lacking the supernatural oomph.

“If it’s wrong, why did you hire him?”

Scott gaped, “What? I didn’t hire him, I would never hire him.”

Derek shrugged, his fingers tangled together in front of him, shoulders loose like he was ready for a fight.

“You hired someone. You called up management, asked about their list, and were perfectly okay with whatever they had to sell, so long as it wasn’t someone you knew.”

“No, I didn’t, Jackson--”

“You approved of it. Otherwise he never would have made the call, alpha.”

Scott scowled but stayed silent, his anger simmering under the surface, fingers curled as if he was considering using his claws to make his point.

“Everyone is fine with sex work until it’s someone they know, and then suddenly it’s all moral panic and how dare you give ‘it’ up, whatever the fuck ‘it’ is. Virtue is a made up construct, you realize that, right?”

“It’s not like we were going to fuck them,” Boyd offered, “We ordered strippers, not hookers.”

“Still sex work, though. Their sole purpose is to give you a hard on and let you get an eyeful of their body.”

“Derek,” Stiles started, and then he stopped, a hand clamped over his eyes like he was afraid he’d start crying.

“No, this is important. What exactly do you think of Chaya, then? Is she worth more than this job? Or is she just a hooker to you? Does it make a difference to you that Chaya doesn’t have a choice in her situation, but Stiles does?”

“Of course,” Scott said.

“Okay, but why? Why isn’t it better that Stiles is in a position to say, hey, he likes fucking and wants to get paid to do it? Why are you only able to get that hard on you were looking for when the person you hired is desperate and starving?”

Scott turned his glare to the floor, but stayed silent, and for a moment only breathing could be heard in the room, quiet but hurried with unexpressed emotion.

“I should go,” Stiles croaked out, “I have...I should check in with some people, let them know I’m safe.”

“Peg?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head.

“You don’t have to come, I can see her on my own.”

“It’s okay,” Derek stood and gathered his coat from the chair by the stereo, patting it down to check for his wallet and keys, “I’ve got a shift in ten hours anyway, I’m sure she won’t mind if I show up early and spend the night.”

Stiles only nodded, and started for the door.

“Stiles, I…” Scott started. He refused to look up and meet anyone’s eye, but he hadn’t relaxed his stance even a hair, “If you want something better than this, just know that I can get it for you, okay?”

He turned away, towards the bed, and then Derek hustled Stiles out and into the hallway, a determination in his shoulders as they headed in the direction of the elevators.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Yeah, I did,” Derek said, “It’s not just an act, you know? I’m not just reciting lines for Sister Peg or whatever. You should be able to do this, without your friends having kittens over it. Anyone should.”

“I should be able to bend over for some jackass?” Stiles snorted, “Right.”

“Yeah, you should. God knows I’d like to sometimes.”

Stiles gave Derek a once over, noticing the blush rising on his cheekbones even with the still angry set to his jaw.

“Well, if you’re asking,” he shifted his eyes to the elevator, hoping to keep his tentative smile off his face, “I usually charge less for topping than I do for bottoming.”

Derek punched his side, gently, but he was smiling too.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first part in this series for a prompt about portraying sex work in a positive way, with no angst. And I did that. But apparently I can't control myself and had to add some angst like almost a year later.
> 
> There's a third part floating in my drafts in which the Sheriff also finds out and hoo boy, is that a mess. Plus a fourth part in which Derek and Stiles move in together. I don't know, it's all very nebulous, plotwise, and I may or may not finish those future pieces, so hopefully this piece is satisfying on its own.


End file.
